


A Night Of Mischief And Magic

by apocryphile



Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 11:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocryphile/pseuds/apocryphile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fairytale Halloween for Josh and Donna, with a little help from the Bartlets, and several dozen hyperactive children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night Of Mischief And Magic

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a silly explanation of why Donna says Josh made her dress up as an East German cocktail waitress. Nearly five thousand words later, it turned into something considerably more romantic. Don't you just hate it when that happens? ;)

“I still don’t understand why I have to…”

Josh was gesticulating wildly with a plastic-wrapped cowboy outfit, waving the hanger dangerously close to CJ’s head, but she was ignoring him and fussing with the hem of her Alice In Wonderland frock. She was just wondering why it was her and not Donna who was wearing the dress when the answer appeared in the doorway and Josh nearly fell over.

Donna was dressed – nay, transformed – into a picture-perfect, wholesome, whimsical and wholly devastating version of Heidi, braids and all. She was wearing a white blouse with puffy sleeves under a black bodice and an apron over a full, short red skirt, and she seemed to have a pretty good idea of the effect she was having. CJ snatched Josh’s costume away from him and hit him over the head with it, and he still didn’t close his mouth. 

“Why aren’t you dressed? Josh, the cars are waiting!”

“I… uh, I…”

Tutting impatiently, she took the garment bag from CJ and beckoned him to follow her. He stepped forward like a man hypnotized. Tottering away in knee-high boots that were way too nice to have come with the costume, Donna called over her shoulder.

“You look nice, CJ. That’s a great color for you!”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get over there so we can get this over with and start drinking.”

Giggling, Donna slowed until Josh caught up and then grabbed him by the lapels and took off at full speed. He made a choking, spluttering sound but didn’t complain. 

“Josh, this whole thing is your fault, you are not getting out of this.”

“Okay.”

She ground to a halt and he nearly fell over.

“Okay?”

He blinked.

“Um?”

Shaking her head with a fond, exasperated smile, she shoved him into his office and started pulling the plastic off his costume.

“I can dress myself, Donna.”

“Really?” She tossed her head. “I’ve yet to see any evidence of that.”

“Could you at least, I dunno, close the door?”

“Everyone else has already left.”

“So there’s no one to see you watching me strip?”

“In your dreams, Joshua.”

“You bet.”

“Shut up.”

“Speaking of which, your outfit…”

She blushed. 

“Yes?”

He opened his mouth and then closed it again.

“It’s very, ah… you look… um.” He shut his eyes for a moment. “You look like an East German cocktail waitress.”

She blinked at him.

“Amazingly, I actually think I know what you mean. They mostly don’t serve cocktails, and I’m pretty sure there are beer gardens all over Germany, but OK.”

He grinned.

“Seriously, Donna, you look amazing.”

“Thank you.”

“I like your hair like that.”

She smiled.

“It’s kind of uncomfortable, actually… so would you please hurry up so we can get there and take some photos and then I can unpin it?”

“Are you actually not going to leave?”

“I’m going to stay, with my back turned, so I can continue to berate you about how this is all your fault.”

“It is not!”

“Josh, you got into some ridiculous argument with the President about Halloween-“

“Yes, with the President! Who is the one who ordered us all to take part in this preposterous exercise! You want someone to blame, blame him.” 

“He only did that because you told him Halloween was just an excuse for adults to make fools of themselves and get drunk.”

“It is!”

“You don’t say that to the President! He likes tradition, he likes neighborly community things, he’s religious and he has grandkids! Of course he likes Halloween!”

“Well, I know that now.”

“You already knew that!”

He huffed.

“I thought you’d enjoy this.”

“I like Halloween. But I like making silly costumes, baking cookies for the kids in my building and drinking pumpkin beer with you guys at the Hawk and Dove. Dressing in something chosen for me by the social secretary that required professional help to do my hair is not my idea of fun.”

He buckled his belt and walked around her so he could apologize to her face-to-face, but her eyes lit up when she saw him in his costume, and she stepped forward to fuss with the red handkerchief tied at his throat, forgetting her complaint. 

“You look handsome.”

“You look beautiful. And I’m sorry.”

She reached out and squeezed his fingers.

“It’s OK. It’s for a good cause and the kids will love it.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, keeping his gaze locked on hers. She giggled and bit her lip and for a moment he was fooled, but then he caught the wicked gleam in her eye.

“Come on. Let’s go make fools of ourselves and then get drunk.”

“That’s my girl.”

He lifted his hat and placed it on top of her looped braids, and offered her his arm. 

“Do you think they’ll have any of those giant beer mugs at this thing?”

“I doubt it, but I’m sure there’ll be cocktails once the kids are gone.”

Chuckling, he pulled her closer, sliding his hand across her back. Walking in step, they hurried towards the ellipse to join the others. 

They found CJ circling a startled looking Sam, who was dressed as Pinocchio and seemed to have somehow provoked CJ’s displeasure by doing so.

“Batman and Robin! Sam, you promised!”

“Did you seriously think I was going to wear tights and a cape?”

They spun around at the sound of Toby’s voice, but any further argument died out instantly at the sight before them. The communications director had presumably won an argument with someone, as he was dressed in an old-timey Yankees uniform, his own beloved tattered cap on his head, but it was his companions who drew his colleagues’ attention. Looking slightly shell-shocked, Toby was toting the twins, one on each hip, shrieking excitedly at each other in Cookie Monster and Elmo costumes. 

“Sorry we’re late. We had… there was some last minute reluctance.”

Donna stepped forward, extending her arms to Elmo who readily cuddled up to her.

“I know exactly what you mean.” She rolled her eyes at Josh but he was transfixed by the sight of her with a giggling toddler bundled in her arms. Her expression softened as she took in the look of wonder and affection on his face. 

“Which one’s which?” asked CJ, “I can’t tell under those head things.”

Donna glanced down to where a small red paw was creeping under the neckline of her shirt. 

“Huck,” she and Josh replied in unison. Smiling wryly, she gently captured the tot’s wandering hands.

“Ah… I’m sorry.” Toby looked mortified.

Donna laughed.

“Toby, he’s seventeen months old. He’s not groping me, he thinks he’s getting dinner.”

Toby looked sad for a moment.

“I didn’t know he did that.”

“It’s no big deal. It’s just a phase. Molly used to do it too, she just outgrew it faster.”

“Yeah, but… I should have known.”

Frowning, Josh took Molly from him and patted him on the back.

“Hey, kiddo. I promise I’ll let your Daddy know if your brother feels up my assistant again.” The end of his sentence was muffled as Cookie Monster headbutted him while trying to stuff his red neckerchief in her mouth. Everyone laughed, and CJ started chivvying them all out the doors to the cars. 

“The kids’ seats are in the jeep.”

Josh and Donna turned towards the bigger car as Sam and CJ made for the sedan. Toby hesitated between the two vehicles.

“It’s OK, Toby, we’ve got it,” Donna called over her shoulder. “Take a breather, it’s going to be crazy at the venue.”

He smiled.

“You know how to do the seats?”

“Absolutely. See you there.”

Toby nodded.

“Thanks, guys.”

Josh took Huck so Donna could climb into the car. She paused before taking the toddler back, smiling at the sight of her boss in his costume with a miniature Sesame Street monster tucked into each arm. Shaking her head with a little smile, she leaned out and gently lifted the little boy into his seat. Josh watched her every move as she deftly secured the straps, making faces and cooing nonsensically to distract the baby, but he still couldn’t work out the safety mechanism, and gladly relinquished Molly for Donna to strap in too. 

“Want me to sit with them?”

“No, it’s OK.”

She had one red and one blue fluffy paw in either hand. Josh climbed into the front and smiled to himself as she softly started to sing the alphabet song.

She trailed off at W.

“They’re asleep,” she whispered.

Straining against his seatbelt, Josh turned to face her. They shared a long look, grinning dazedly at each other in the gloom of the car. 

“You’re so good with them,” he said as quietly as he could manage.

“I love looking after them. I wish we could do that more often.”

The sad look on her face tugged at his heart. He knew she worried about Toby and his isolation from his new little family, and he found himself making a whole series of hypothetical promises in his head. 

They reached the venue in no time, and found Toby waiting, looking less frazzled after a twin-free break. Donna helped him unclip the seats from the car, and he and Josh carried the still sleeping kids into the hotel.

CJ and Sam joined them as they circumvented the party, which was essentially a well serviced line of families waiting for photos with the President, heading towards the First Family’s base for the evening.

“How many photos was he due to do?”

CJ shook her head in disbelief.

“Over a hundred.”

Josh grinned slyly.

“Let’s see if he’s still as enthusiastic about kids and Halloween now.” 

They heard him before they saw him. Toby ground to a halt, glancing around for somewhere out of earshot to take the twins before they could be woken up by what sounded like President Bartlet channeling Father Christmas. 

“Ho ho ho?” muttered Sam, frowning. “He’s Captain Hook!”

“He probably doesn’t want to scare the little ones.”

“I can’t see how that’s possible.”

The senior staff had made a valiant effort to keep straight faces when they’d seen the First Family off, an hour ahead of their own departure, but it had been almost impossible. Someone had found the President the most over the top pirate hat any of them had ever seen, and the effect of the roguishly elegant costume on their stocky, jovial boss had been too much for them. Abbey, on the other hand, had perfectly suited the traditional witch outfit she’d adamantly insisted upon, and Zoey and Charlie had wowed them all as well-equipped Ghostbusters. That was when Josh, making no effort to conceal his jealousy, had started whining about his costume. He’d shut up briefly when Leo, majestic as a sea captain, had suggested a few alternatives that could be substituted at the last minute, but that had been fleeting. Now he seemed to be warming to his hat, at least, tipping the brim in greeting when he saw a friendly face emerge from the crowd.

Andy hurried over, eliciting a chorus of whispered compliments in her Red Riding Hood cape. When she realized the babies were asleep she beamed.

“Nicely done, Daddy. Now we can make our excuses and leave as soon as possible.”

Toby, who’d been about to apologise, grinned.

“You don’t want photos?”

She shrugged. 

“We can put them in those things anytime. Well, until they outgrow them by next week.”

She smiled around at the assembled West Wing staff.

“Now go take your medicine. The meet and greet’s just getting started.”

CJ squared her shoulders and strode off to take over Presidential crowd control. Sam waited for Toby, and Donna paused for one last affectionate look at the sleeping twins, before taking Josh’s arm and finding herself firmly steered to the very opposite end of the ballroom from the “Picture with the President” scrum. 

“Josh! You’re meant to be schmoozing bigwigs.”

He grinned at her.

“He’ll never know.” Affecting his best rugged cowboy face, he tugged his hat down to shade his eyes. “I’m incognito.”

She giggled, and he stopped, turning to face her.

“Besides, I thought the whole point of this was for the kids.”

She nodded.

“Come on then.”

Apparently oblivious to what anyone might think, he grabbed her hand and made a beeline for a group towards the end of the long, snaking line for photos, that included a huddle of small boys in various sports uniforms. 

“Hey guys. My name’s Josh and this is Donna, and we work for President Bartlet at the White House.”

Most of the responding greetings came from parents, but after a moment a little boy pushed his way to the front. He was also dressed as a cowboy, and he drew himself up to his full height of about three-foot-nothing and stuck his hand out. Josh shook it solemnly. 

“What’s your name?”

“Luke.”

“Well, howdy, Luke. It’s great to meet you.”

The surefooted little tyke nodded as though that was the most obvious thing in the world. Behind him, his mother laughed slightly nervously. Donna caught her eye and smiled. 

“Listen, partner, we were just thinking. There’s a lot of folks here to see the President, and you guys are going to be waiting a little while longer. Do you think, if it’s OK with your parents, you might be able to help us out?”

Luke nodded vigorously. Josh grinned, and Donna tried to not to let her face betray any nervousness about what he might do next.

Straightening up and addressing the group at large, Josh took his hat off and waved it to get the kids’ attention.

“Anyone wanna play statues?”

Donna laughed delightedly as first a couple of kids, then a dozen, and quickly everyone within earshot tumbled into the middle of the dancefloor. She quickly enlisted some extra help, Ed and Larry in clown costumes with contrasting colors, and started coaxing some of the smaller kids to the front, whispering to Josh to go easy on the littlest players. She soon found herself with an entourage of wide-eyed little girls in indistinguishably pink and sparkly outfits, one clinging to each hand and a third, for lack of anything better, holding the edge of her skirt. 

“Everybody ready?”

The answering yell was deafening. Josh grinned.

“OK, practice run!”

He hoisted Luke onto his shoulder, and Donna could see the little boy counting down on his fingers. When Josh turned to face the crowd, there was a torrent of giggles and a wave of stumbles, but he just grinned.

“You guys are good! This is going to be tough! Alright, here we go!”

He was funny and gentle, inviting the kids he eliminated up to the front to help him, and offering congratulations on the goofiest poses. When she was quite close to reaching him, one of the little girls who’d been holding Donna’s hand tripped over her own shoes, and Josh swooped over to help her up. “That was an accident, that doesn’t count. You’re doing great.” She turned bright pink and hurried back to where Donna was playing along with some of the littlest kids, hiding behind her legs. Catching his assistant’s eye above the shrieking throng, Josh winked, and she plucked up her courage and blew him a kiss. A huge grin quickly replaced the shocked look it provoked, and he mimed catching it and tucking it in his pocket. Blushing as much as her new little friend, now, Donna bent back to the girls and whispered a few words of encouragement.

It got louder and louder, and a couple of kids called back to the line by their parents who were approaching the front threw tantrums. Josh took stock of the situation and announced this would be the final round, to a chorus of disappointment. 

“You guys are just too good for me. You’ve made me really tired, I need to go and sit down.”

No one was eliminated in the final round, of course, and Josh waited patiently until there was no one left to high five. Donna ferried her tiny protégées back to their Mom, who smiled gratefully.

“That was great! You two were great. Which ones are yours?”

It took Donna a moment to understand.

“Oh, no. We… I… we don’t have kids.” 

“Well, when you do, you’ll be in great shape. He’s a natural.”

Donna glanced over to were Josh was trading hats with another small cowboy.

“Sometimes, he’s kind of like having a toddler, I think.”

The other woman laughed. 

“I know what you mean. Those guys are the keepers, though. You want someone who knows how to have fun.”

Donna smiled.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

Waving goodbye to the little girls, she hurried over to join Josh just as the First Lady reached him. 

“That was quite a performance, Joshua.”

He grinned.

“It was fun.”

“Were you perchance hoping you’d be let off the hook early after that display of enthusiasm?”

Josh, who transparently had been thinking just that, tried valiantly to look innocent, and failed miserably.

“I don’t know what you mean, Ma’am.”

“Save it, kid. It worked. There’s a car coming for you in a few minutes, and you’ll find refreshments in the Roosevelt Room.”

“That’s awfully kind of you, Ma’am.”

“It is, isn’t it? Now come take a photo so poor Donna can get those pins out of her hair.”

The First Lady had been in the next chair when Donna had undergone the uncomfortable creation of her braided updo.

The President, who seemed to have had at least much – if not more – sugar than his young fans, bellowed with delight when he saw them. Apologising profusely to the next family in line, he rounded up the rest of his staff and fussed with his hat until Abbey hissed at him to get on with it. The photographer snapped a dozen shots in quick succession and then thanked them. Everyone scattered, but as the next family were beginning their greeting to the Commander in Chief, Josh pulled Donna back in front of the camera.

“Would you?”

The photographer nodded quickly, and gestured for them to move closer together. Josh slid his arm around Donna’s waist and, on impulse, after the first flash went off, planted a kiss on her cheek. She giggled, and the photographer gave them a thumbs up as they moved out of the way for the next group portrait. They found CJ standing off to one side, waiting for them.

“I hear you two’ve earned a reprieve.”

Josh’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Us two? What about you guys?”

She shrugged, no longer seeming as annoyed about the night’s ceremonial wrangling. 

“It shouldn’t be too much longer. Your car should be about ten more minutes.”

“Uh… OK.”

Leo waved jauntily at them from where he was chatting to a senator in a bowler hat towards the front of the line. 

From the dance floor, the sound of music swelled, and Josh saw a few couples – and several dozen kids – take to the floor. He raised an enquiring eyebrow at Donna.

“Come on.”

She smiled and walked ahead of him, but by the time he caught up she’d found them each a waist-high dance partner. He swallowed his disappointment and twirled a self-possessed girl in tiny surgical scrubs around the floor. When he passed Donna, she smiled reassuringly at him and mouthed one word, “later.”

He traded partners twice, ending up with a toddler who waddled a few steps clutching his fingers and then held up her arms to him with an impatient pout. Laughing, he swung her up into his arms, and turned to see Donna watching him, hands clasped under her chin, eyes shining. Returning the baby girl to her father, one of their friendliest Congressmen, Josh inclined his head towards the exit and she nodded and joined him. He slung his arm around her shoulder as they progressed towards the door, calling goodnights and shaking hands, pausing for a few final high fives from their new little friends. 

They found the car waiting for them, and slid into the luxurious interior with a simultaneous sight of relief. Donna’s hands went straight to her hair.

Josh watched, entranced, as she deftly extracted hairpin after hairpin, holding out his hands to collect them for her. She kept her gaze locked on his as she worked her way along the coiled braids, smiling wider as the complicated construction finally unwound. With a hiss of discomfort she unraveled one long rope of blonde hair then the other. When she eventually ran her fingers through the loosened strands with a sound that almost sounded like a whimper, he actually had to shake himself. 

“Wow.”

She shot him a heated look from under her lashes, but didn’t respond. Reaching out to run his own hand through her now rather unruly mane, he gently rubbed her scalp above her ears, where the twists had been pinned. She arched like a cat and leaned into him with an appreciative hum, and he chuckled and shifted his position so he could free his other arm and tend to both sides of her head. He didn’t stop until she tugged on the end of his neckerchief. 

“That was really fun. I’m sorry I whined at you.”

He chuckled.

“I’m sorry I whined at you, too. I’m glad you were there.” He patted her hair and moved his hands down, one arm around her shoulders, the other across her middle. “You don’t mind leaving?”

She lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him.

“No.”

“’kay.” He smiled. “Good.”

She let her head drop back to where it had been resting and he sighed contentedly, but they were back at the White House already. For a wild moment he considered just asking the driver to take them home, but all other complicated considerations aside, Donna wouldn’t thank him for spiriting her away in her costume. 

“Come on, Goldilocks,” he said softly. “We were promised refreshments.”

They climbed out of the car and wandered through the empty West Wing. By her desk, Donna paused.

“Is it OK if I change?”

“You don’t have to ask permission!”

“I don’t know…” She shot him a look so flirtatious he nearly laughed. “I thought you liked it.”

He swallowed.

“I do. Very, very much. But I really, really want to change too.”

She laughed.

“I’ll allow it. But for the record, I like you like that very much too.”

He grinned.

“I know.”

When she unzipped her boots right there at her desk he caught a flash of garter at the hem of her skirt and nearly changed his mind, but the look of relief in her eyes as she reached for one of the many tote bags that littered the floor by her chair dissuaded him. She padded off to the bathroom and he ambled around his office, haphazardly discarding his costume’s colorful accessories, toeing off his own boots – which he had to admit he actually rather liked – until he was left in his own jeans and button-down, which had formed the basis of the outfit when he’d baulked at the fake leather fringed pants and embroidered shirt. He rested the hat atop his desk lamp, which still didn’t work, and decided to go and retrieve some of the promised goodies from the Roosevelt Room to share with Donna here on home turf. 

He returned triumphant with a chilled bottle of champagne and a huge plate of the cookies he knew she really liked, and nearly dropped them both when he caught sight of her, stretching in the doorway, arms extended above her head. She was wearing his most favourite jeans, which fit her hips like a second skin, and a black sweater that looked indescribably soft. Her feet were bare, and when he looked closer he saw that her toes were painted orange, presumably in honor of the occasion. He chuckled. Her hair, a mass of undulating waves after hours of being braided, was rapidly escaping from a messy bun. She looked absolutely radiant. 

He brushed past her, making no effort to leave any space between them, and discarded the spoils of his foraging on the desk, turning back to where she stood just inside the door, regarding him evenly with a small smile on her face. 

“Champagne and cookies, Josh?”

He quirked half a smile at her.

“Never let it be said that I don’t know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

She took a step closer.

“Actually,” she began, taking another slow step, “you did that when you played statues with fifty hysterical kindergartners.” 

He chuckled.

“So it worked, then.”

She stopped a couple of feet away, eyebrows arched, and folded her arms, trying to muster an expression of surprise.

“That was for my benefit?”

He tilted his chin up for a moment and then relented.

“Partly. It was fun.”

She laughed, and closed the distance between them, looping her arms around his waist.

“You were great.”

He moved his own hands up to her shoulders and down her back.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

She didn’t protest, which made him squeeze her tighter.

“You were great with the twins too.”

“I couldn’t have done that without you either. Huck hates me, but he’s got a little crush on you.”

She giggled.

“He has excellent taste.”

He nodded.

“He does.”

He searched her face, nudging them backwards until he was leaning against the desk. She looked calmly back at him, seeming wholly at ease in his arms. Her sweater was even softer than he’d imagined, and he started running his hands over her back. She smiled.

“Do you want a drink?”

“No,” she answered immediately.

His lips curling into a grin, he asked again.

“Do you want a cookie?”

She smiled wider, but answered just as quickly.

“No.”

He stilled his movements, the tips of his little fingers just grazing bare skin where he’d pushed her sweater upwards. He waited, giving her a chance to say stop or step away. She did neither. He took a deep breath, and then another, quieter one. She licked her lips, and everything around them became rather fuzzy.

When he leaned in she met him halfway, rising onto her toes and twining her arms around his neck. He had vaguely intended to take it slow but she was irresistible, warm lips and soft skin, eager and steady under his hands, and he kissed her thoroughly, running his hands up her back to tangle in her hair and press her closer still. When they finally came up for air she gasped, but he barely had time to catch his own breath when she kissed him back, nearly toppling backwards onto the desk. She gripped the lapels of his shirt and giggled, waiting for him to get his balance back.

“Never let it be said,” she whispered huskily, “that I don’t know how to sweep a man off his feet.”

He laughed, delighted, and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“Actually,” he admitted, “you did that when you hired yourself and re-organised my entire life in a matter of hours.”

She grinned impishly.

“So it worked, then.”

“You bet.”

He shifted so he could actually sit on the edge of the desk, and then tugged her by the belt loops to stand between his knees. 

“So, it’s the night of mischief and magic.”

She nodded.

“But this isn’t trick or treat.” He winced apologetically at the unfortunate word association, but she shook her head emphatically. 

“No.”

“Good.”

She slid her fingers through his curls, fluffing the patches flattened by his hat. 

“I made a promise to myself, earlier, you know,” he went on.

“Tell me.”

He touched one fingertip lightly to her cheek.

“I looked at Toby and Andy and the babies and I told myself I would never let that happen.”

She nodded, a storm of emotions playing across her face. He steered clear of elaborating, knowing it was far too soon to put his hopes into words, but in a way they’d already said everything they needed to say long ago. He kissed her again, and stayed close, nudging the edge of her nose with his.

“You owe me a dance.”

“Indeed I do.”

He pushed himself to his feet, moving her gently backwards, and twining his fingers through hers, folding their hands next to his collar. Starting to move in a slow circle, he sang.

“You’ve put a spell on me…:

She giggled.

“That’s not how it goes.”

“I know, but mine has the benefit of actually being true.”

She kissed him, moving both hands to his chest, stilling his movements.

“So, night of mischief and magic, huh?”

He nodded emphatically.

“Definitely.”

She brushed his lips with hers.

“Happy Halloween.”

He kissed her back.

“Happy Halloween, Donna.”


End file.
